


Star-Crossed

by wvwv



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23534251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wvwv/pseuds/wvwv
Summary: In which Palamedes and Camilla heed the Emperor’s call, set foot on the real live surface of a planet, and stare at Dulcinea a whole bunch without ever actually fucking talking to her.(Palamedes POV of the arrival at Canaan House)
Relationships: Camilla Hect & Palamedes Sextus, Dulcinea Septimus/Palamedes Sextus
Kudos: 27





	Star-Crossed

The first planet Palamedes ever saw was a searing blue expanse of sea, streaked with blinding white clouds.

He’d never seen the planet of the Sixth House; it was closer to Dominicus than the First, so the people of the Sixth resided within a windowless station on one of the frozen poles of the planet, where it was protected from the heat and light.

In addition to being located at a safer distance from Dominicus, the First House had a breathable atmosphere, so not only could Palamedes and Camilla look at it directly, they would also be able to walk around outside on the planet’s surface.

The whole situation was fascinating, of course, and the planet of the First House was staggeringly beautiful. Even hanging in orbit above the planet, it was massive, stretching beyond the borders of the shuttle window. Craning his neck, Palamedes could see the fuzzy blue border of atmosphere at the edge of the planet, and beyond that, deep velvety blackness scattered with tiny points of white. And the only thing that separated them from everything else was a thin sheet of transparent glass.

Palamedes couldn’t help but feel like his stomach—biology be damned—was going to crawl up into his throat and choke him to death at all this endless… openness.

Next to him, Camilla was cool-faced and alert as usual, but there was something in the set of her jaw and the angle of her shoulders that told him she was just as unnerved. 

One after another, the remote pilots directed the shuttles of the Houses to break orbit and enter the atmosphere of the First House. Their view was quickly overtaken by the blinding light of the heat shield’s burn off, and he and Camilla had to shield their eyes.

Camilla strode towards the window with steps a touch too brisk to be casual and snapped the metal shade over the shuttle window.

Cocooned once again within the protective, opaque shell of metal, Palamedes released a breath. “Thank you.”

“Can’t have you fainting or going blind before we even land,” Cam said with just a hint of a smirk.

The pilot landed their shuttle safely and directed them to exit.

Camilla marched up to the shuttle door, peering suspiciously around at the other occupants of the massive, salt-stained metal dock in front of the crumbling castle on the First House.

Palamedes slowly walked up to the exit, his mind whirling as he tried to take everything in without swinging his head frantically back and forth. He began to disembark, Camilla her customary half step behind him.

He inhaled deeply through his nose. The natural atmosphere of the First House felt the same to breathe as recycled station air, which was something of a marvel, even though he knew intellectually that it would be. The scent of salt from the sea was heavy, periodically waxing and waning with the wind, which was fantastically distracting; strong scents were quickly cycled out on the Sixth, and wind was nonexistent unless you were directly in front of a vent.

He took in the stunning disrepair of the gleaming white palace that seemed to form its own island over the sea. Elegant spires stretched up towards the vast blue sky or lay crumbled and broken around the base. Wet, glistening green foliage had creeped up the sides of the castle from the ocean, while the terraced gardens and nearby walls and balconies were teeming with dead yellowy-brown plants and trees.

Eight ship cradles in the landing bay had been cleaned and repaired to prepare for the arrival of the House representatives, but the remaining ninety-two had been left in their state of decay.

Three human priests and numerous animated skeletons were bustling around to greet the guests. The skeletons were perfectly formed, and even at a glance Palamedes could tell their movements were remarkably smooth. Whoever had worked on them—presumably one of the priests—was fantastically skilled.

Palamedes was itching to get his hands on every piece of this place, to pick it apart with psychometry and reform it into a more complete understanding—of necromancy, of the task ahead of them, of the Emperor and the First House.

He debated taking out some flimsy right now, to take some preliminary notes, but one prescient glare into the back of his head from Camilla stopped him.

Three of those magnificent skeletons approached them, moving in tandem seamlessly to take their bags from their shuttle’s hold, leaving Palamedes and Camilla free to move towards the palace.

Camilla’s eyes were roving across the space in that way she always did when they were in rooms full of people, assessing threats and calculating the best way to overcome them. It was only then that Palamedes registered the presence of the other Houses and cast his gaze around the dock to observe them, looking out for one person in particular.

He was immediately distracted by the absence of two shuttles, unseen beyond the thick atmosphere of the First House.

“Who’s missing?” Camilla murmured to him, noticing as well. “There were eight in orbit.”

The two women in stark red-and-white Cohort uniforms at the far end of the line of shuttles were obviously the Second House, and the two males in white next to them would be the Eighth. He knew the Fourth heir and cavalier primary were both young, so they would be the two children in the shuttle next to the Sixth. The Fifth House was likely the two adults talking with the Fourth children; their Houses were famously close. The black hooded duo on the Sixth’s other side, near the centre of the line, had to be the elusive Ninth.

“The Third and Seventh,” Palamedes replied, his throat constricting at what might have stalled the Seventh House heir.

Before he could do something insane, like run up to one of the priests and demand to know what happened to the Seventh, the two shuttles dropped into view and landed next to each other on the opposite side of the Ninth’s shuttle, and Palamedes could breathe again.

The farther shuttle was opened first, and Palamedes saw what the delay had been immediately. The Emperor had barred the Houses from sending anyone other than the necromantic heir and their cavalier primary, but the Third House had sent three people: a young man with a rapier, and two heirs which seemed to be a set of blonde twins, though he couldn’t see much more detail at this distance.

Then the nearer shuttle opened, and out staggered the woman who must be Dulcinea Septimus, stumbling a few steps before collapsing into the frail arms of one of the priests.

Palamedes sucked in a breath and felt Camilla tense behind him, but before either of them could act, the Ninth cav, of all people, streaked across the dock to catch Dulcinea before the priest dropped her.

Palamedes was immensely grateful that the Ninth cav was close enough (and willing enough) to prevent Dulcinea from crashing to the ground, knowing in sickening, clinical detail just how delicate her body was, and how much pain she was already in.

He hovered with indecision for a moment, debating whether to go see if there was any help he could offer her, or if his presence would be unwelcome and intrusive.

Then Dulcinea’s cavalier held his blade to the back of the Ninth cav’s neck.

“Should we intervene?” Camilla asked lowly as the Ninth necromancer swept furiously up to her cavalier.

“Not yet,” Palamedes said, still uncertain. “If it comes down to a duel, then we will.”

After a frozen moment where everyone focused on the Ninth and Seventh, Dulcinea’s laughter suddenly rang across the dock, the Seventh cavalier withdrew his sword, and the tension snapped.

Palamedes stared, transfixed, her laughter echoing in his head even after she’d quieted. Some stupid, illogical part of his brain couldn’t get over the fact that this was the first time he’d heard her voice in his life. This was the first time he was seeing her at all. His eyes kept tripping over her long hair, her starkly pale skin, her delicate arms, and her light flowy dress splattered with scarlet blood. He didn’t think he’d be so enraptured had the Emperor himself stepped off the shuttle in her stead.

His heart ached, an old, familiar squeeze that tightened his chest and made it hard to breathe. He couldn’t help but feel lucky, despite everything, that he was finally able to see her in the flesh.

The massive Seventh cavalier lifted Dulcinea to her feet, and shortly after, the Ninth pair stalked off toward the palace.

“Will you go talk to her?” Camilla asked.

Palamedes hesitated. Dulcinea, still balancing with a frail arm on her cavalier, was peering around at the other Houses, which had all gathered to watch the incident. She was close enough to see them, but she either didn’t recognize him or wanted to pretend she didn’t.

His heart clenched again, and he berated himself for it, embarrassed and upset all at once. He couldn’t bother her, ruin her happiness with awkwardness; she’d clearly moved on and he should respect her decision.

“No, not yet. They’ve just arrived, after all, and there will be plenty of time to talk to her later, when she’s more comfortable.”

He turned to follow the Ninth toward the palace. Camilla lingered a moment, shooting him a look, before mercifully dropping the matter and following after him.

“Rushing in to play hero is uncharacteristic of the Ninth House,” Camilla said as they walked.

“Showing up at all is uncharacteristic of the Ninth House,” Palamedes said, gratefully seizing the change in subject. “But I agree. Immediately running to help a stranger for no personal gain? I’m impressed.”

“Don’t let your guard down,” Camilla said, eyes boring holes into the back of his skull.

“Oh, don’t say that. You’d be bored out of your mind.”

The three priests led the Houses to a decaying, once-beautiful atrium where the skeletons handed out tea. Palamedes nearly had a heart attack when Dulcinea started coughing in the middle of drinking hers. He nearly had another one right after when her cav thumped her on the back—her skinny ribs seemed like they’d shatter under the force—but it seemed to settle her, and she smiled sweetly as she thanked him.

To begin, the priests led them through prayers, and directed the Ninth House to recite their own prayers. Then the priest called Teacher formally welcomed them to Canaan House and presented each of the cavalier primaries with a metal ring.

Teacher gave them information on their stay—the Emperor’s need for new Lyctors, their safety in these trials not being guaranteed, their material needs being provided for—but when he got around to imparting their instructions, all he said was, “We ask that you never open a locked door unless you have permission.”

Palamedes realized that the ring Cam had been given was likely a keyring, and that the locked doors must be involved in becoming a Lyctor, either through the process to obtaining the keys, or what lay beyond the locked doors, or both.

He glanced around at the other Houses. Most of them appeared to be varying levels of confused, annoyed, or deep in thought. Dulcinea’s expression had oscillated between attentive and amused since she’d set foot inside Canaan House, and now she seemed serene and unworried, gazing with interest at the reactions of the other Houses. Their eyes didn’t meet.

After Teacher’s dismissal, there was a moment where everyone stood around awkwardly, and Camilla pointedly looked in Dulcinea’s direction. She was still seated, a smile on her face, her curls pouring over her narrow shoulders, thin fingers passing her empty cup to a skeleton.

He felt cold and hot all at once. He felt like a child trailing after the approval of a busy adult. Dulcinea didn’t move to speak with them, didn’t even look around for him.

He was torn between the thought that she was trying to spare his feelings—letting him pine embarrassingly at a distance so he could at least maintain the illusion of dignity, or that she was simply uninterested in talking to the presumptuous infant that had pestered her for so many years with intrusive questions about her illness. Or perhaps she was trying to save him and Camilla the heartache of watching her body slowly fail on her, up close and in person. He didn’t know which possibility was worse.

He shook his head in answer to Camilla’s unvoiced question, and they headed off after the skeleton that appeared to lead them to their quarters, where all their belongings had been brought earlier.

The Sixth House rooms were high up in the central tower of Canaan House, with multiple large windows that had a dizzying view of the sea. Thankfully, all the windows had blackout curtains, which the two immediately set to pulling shut, Camilla ranting about poor security measures and lack of structural integrity all the while.

Palamedes’ bed was a large four-poster that was so old it threatened to collapse in on itself just from the weight of the few books he set on it. Camilla’s bed was a cot attached to the foot of Palamedes’, which Camilla accepted as a strategic location to protect him from, should the need arise.

Camilla didn’t approve of the lack of real security on their door, even after Palamedes set up wards, but fortunately they had packed multiple deadlocks that she could hammer in to reassure her. While she was busy with that, Palamedes had sat down at the table and finally taken out his flimsy to scribble down all the notes he had been meaning to take since their arrival, occasionally muttering his thoughts out loud.

Finished with the door’s reinforcements, Camilla sat opposite Palamedes at the table and stared at him disapprovingly until he looked up.

“What are you going to do about Lady Septimus?” she said, cutting straight to the exact topic he didn’t want to talk about. “Are you just going to ignore her the whole time we’re here, and stare at her from afar?”

Palamedes sighed, scraping a hand through his hair and, when that wasn’t satisfyingly distracting enough, took off his glasses and compulsively scrubbed them on his robes.

“I’m not ignoring her. She didn’t come up to talk to us either. We’re ignoring each other.”

Camilla looked distinctly unimpressed with his defense. He sighed again and set his glasses on the table.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. And I don’t want to embarrass myself either.” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “Look, I’m not putting it off forever. If she comes to talk to us, great. If she… if her condition starts to deteriorate, I’ll offer her aid. But right now, we need to focus on that keyring of yours.”

Camilla stared at him for another long moment before nodding concisely, and that was that.


End file.
